


Impulsion

by MajorPidge (ScoracleTrash)



Series: Dressage [3]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Major horse kink ahead, also caning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25408630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScoracleTrash/pseuds/MajorPidge
Summary: Pryde gives Hux his first taste of intense pain.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Enric Pryde
Series: Dressage [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839196
Kudos: 10





	Impulsion

**Author's Note:**

> For proper impulsion, you need a relaxed, healthy horse and a skilled rider.

Armitage Hux was on his hands and knees on Enric Pryde’s bed, his tunic and belt gone, his soft, white torso exposed. Every nerve in his body was anticipating what was to come, something that had been promised for weeks and was finally coming to fruition.

Pryde had insisted that they take time to learn one another before they did anything like this. There were foundational protocols to master, barriers to cross, intimacy to create. But now, a month after the consummation of their mutual desire, it was time.

“As I told you that first day, you never strike your mount in anger,” Pryde said from his place at the foot of the bed, holding Armitage’s chin up with the flatter end of his ebonwood stick, “You strike them when it benefits you both. That can be both for pleasure or correction, in our case. I prefer pleasure. If your behavior needs correction, I would rather have you focused on why, exactly, it does, and as I said in negotiations, I think it unwise to marry pain to punishment in your case. Too much trauma in the past.”

Armitage still had trouble with such long, extended periods of looking deep into those piercing blue eyes. Those eyes owned his soul, and they knew it.

“So tonight,” Pryde continued, “We will simply be engaging for enjoyment. To spur you on, as it were.”

He took a step back and turned the stick over in his hands.

“On Eriadu they once used ebonwood sticks for public corporal punishment. It can break the skin easily with the right amount of force, but I won’t do that to you. Not for some time.”

Fear rose in Armitage’s throat. But it was a pleasant fear. An anticipation rather than a dread. He was ready for this, he knew he was. He had already come to love pain at Pryde’s hands, from the way the man tugged at his hair and the way his kisses across Armitage’s body always inevitably turned to frenetic, ravenous biting. It helped that implements had never been in his father’s repertoire, to separate this pain from that which he experienced as a child.

“Pants off, now,” Pryde ordered.

Armitage worked his way out of the rest of his clothing and presented himself, head down, to his mentor.

Pryde walked in an arc around the bed, taking in the sight of his charge. “Beautiful. Have I ever told you that you’re magnificent, boy?”

Armitage flushed, “You say something to that effect quite frequently, yes.”

“Perhaps with enough repetition, you’ll start to believe it,” he said.

“When you watch a rider with a crop or stick, you might be tempted to think they’re bullying their mount,” he continued, “But a proper rider would never do such a thing. Sometimes horses just need a little extra motivation,” Pryde held the crop up and examined it carefully, “I think the pain will be an excellent motivator for you.”

Armitage almost trembled. He was growing hard, and the anticipation was killing him.

“Sometimes you use a longer whip with a lash simply to make noise or point,” he expounded, “We’ll get to whips eventually, but those, ooh, those are advanced, my dear boy. Very easy to make a bloody mess of my beautiful pet, and we need to be certain that’s something we both want.”

Yes, I want it, Armitage thought, I want you to make me a bloody mess, I want to be broken for you.

“Sometimes, you merely hold a stick where the horse can see it so that it learns not to fear the sight of something in its peripheral vision. In this way, you can build trust. Horses are prey, and they are set upon by predators. But a horse with a rider has no need to fear any longer. It is protected. It has a safe place to sleep. To graze. To play. So too, I hope this will come to remind you that you are protected, every time you see it beneath my arm.”

“Please,” Armitage whispered, “You’ll drive me mad.”

“Patience, pet.”

A whimper.

“Of course, with horses, you only want to tap them with your aid,” Pryde said, setting the stick aside, “You, I think you’ll like a firmer hand.”

And speaking of hands, Pryde’s collided with the meat of Armitage’s backside. The young man yelped in surprise, and the older man snickered.

“Such a pretty thing,” he whispered, “I can’t wait until you’re welting. Tomorrow at the meeting, you’ll be squirming in your seat.”

With care he spanked his charge until his skin was warm and tingling, ready for more intense pain. Then with a kiss on the small of Armitage’s back, he leaned over to retrieve his stick, and brought it across the thickest part of the young man’s ass.

“Fuck!” Armitage gasped.

Another dark laugh from his mentor.

And another strike.

“How is that? Hmm? Remember your word.”

Armitage nodded, “I don’t need a bloody word yet, General, please, hit me again!”

Pryde obliged.

“How’s that? Are you ready to go harder?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, leave me welted, please, Daddy.”

“As my boy requests.”

Pryde built up a cadence that kept Armitage gasping for the duration of his ordeal, a few light strokes before one truly stinging one. When all was said and done, the ginger had four perfectly parallel welts of pale purple surrounded by a halo of red across the white flesh of his ass, and was face down in the mattress with his teeth gritted.

“How was that, darling?” Pryde cooed as he ran his palm along the welts, “Was that what you needed?”

Armitage nodded and grunted his assent.

“Then are you ready for my cock?”

Another nod and grunt.

“Come now, speak up,” Pryde said as he began to stroke his cock with a lubricated hand, “I can’t hear you, boy.”

“Yes, I want your cock,” the young man whimpered.

“Then you’ll have it,” Pryde pressed more lubricant into Armitage’s hole before sliding inside of him.

“Mmm, you’re getting so good at taking all of me, my good boy,” Pryde leaned over Armitage to rasp above his ear, “Tell me, does it hurt?” He brushed his fingers across the welts.

“Yes, yes sir, it hurts, but it feels good.”

“That’s my boy.”

Pryde rode him brutally, with hips that knew the cadence of posting well, and Armitage drank every second of it like liquor, stupefied by pain and pleasure. Soon he was flat on his stomach, grinding against the bed, until a hand came around and began to pump around him.

“You’re going to make me come and you’re going to come for me, do you understand, dear?”

Armitage nodded, incoherent as he tried to say, “Yes, sir, I understand.” 

Pryde barked a laugh in his ear, a few final thrusts heralding his release deep inside his pet, his hand still working, not long at all before the man beneath him cried out and stiffened and then his whole body slackened.

As quickly as Armitage could begin to think again, he was under blankets and wrapped in arms. He no longer cried just from sex, but he lost a few tears from the combination of pain and pleasure on that particular night, and his mentor kissed them away.

“I love you,” Armitage whimpered into Pryde’s neck without even thinking. Mortified a second later, until the reply came without hesitation,

“I love you too, my darling,” a long, slow kiss, then, “Now how about a cup of tea?”


End file.
